


The Trial of Jaime Lannister

by theworldunseen



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Post-Season/Series 07 Finale
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-05 05:50:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12184128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theworldunseen/pseuds/theworldunseen
Summary: When Jaime Lannister arrives in Winterfell, he's quickly arrested for murdering the Mad King, the father of Daenerys Targaryen. Can Brienne keep him from the executioner's block?





	1. Arrival

Ser Jaime Lannister, the first of his name, sometimes called the Kingslayer, formerly the head of the Kingsguard, and the Queensguard, formerly the lover of the Queen (but never loved by the Queen) did not know what to expect when he arrived at Winterfell alone, without the promised Lannister army. He left King’s Landing because it was the right thing to do and there was nothing there for him anymore — hadn’t been for a long time, even if he had only just realized. Everything — everyone — there was for him anymore was in the North, fighting the Whitewalkers and their undead armies. So he went North. 

When he wasn’t silently berating himself for his past mistakes and thinking of all the ways in which he could be a better person in the future, he imagined what might happen when he got there. Maybe Lady Brienne would meet him at the gate — or before the gate. She’s be out on some sort of errand and meet him on the road and they would ride into Winterfell together. Or she would be angry with him, or distant, or happy, or sad, or...

So he didn’t know what to expect, but he never thought he would be arrested as soon as the gates were open. Two big, burly Dothraki had him off his horse and in handcuffs before he could finish saying, “I’m Jaime Lannister.” He could have slid off his gold hand and out of the cuffs, but he thought if he tried to escape they might just stab him dead. Or scythe him dead.

Instead, as he was dragged through the courtyard, his eyes scanned the onlookers for his favorite pair of blue eyes, but he didn’t find them. And they shoved him into the dungeon, he only managed to ask one question: “Where’s my brother?”

\---

Brienne was sparring with Podrick when Ser Jaime arrived. She was trying to give him the skills he needed to avoid getting killed by a wight. It wasn’t going well. If he didn’t start improving, she was going to come up with an excuse to keep him at Winterfell. She knew she shouldn’t, that they needed every sword they could get, but to send Pod to an icy death seemed all too cruel. 

She wondered, absently, what Jaime would thing when he got here. Before she used to try her hardest not to think of him. Before she saw him in Kings Landing, before he sent the dragon queen a letter about how Cersei was betraying them all but he was coming North alone anyway. She was always thinking of him, wondering what he would say about this or that, Sansa or Arya or the snow or the free folk or Podrick. But she had tried very hard not to. Those thoughts she fought away.

But now she didn’t bother. He was coming. She was half a mind to hop on her horse and meet him on the road, but she was needed here. Protecting Sansa was still her job.

She had just finished demonstrating to Podrick the problem with his stance when a small girl ran up to them.

“Lady Brienne,” the girl said. “Lady Stark needs you in her chambers.” The girl was out of breath and shaky, clearly having run here. “Immediately,” the girl added, driving home the point.

“Thank you — I’m sorry, I do not know your name.” The girl blushed, as if surprised that Brienne had even bothered to ask. 

“Catelyn,” she said, finally having caught her breath. Brienne smiled.

“Thank you Catelyn. My squire Podrick will get you some water so you can rest a moment before you go back to the castle.” The girl nodded. As Brienne walked away, she heard her ask Podrick, “Can a girl be a squire?” 

\---

Tyrion arrived relatively quickly. He found Jaime curled up in the corner, glaring out of the bars.

“Brother,” Tyrion said. Jaime just nodded, acknowledging his presence. “Sorry about the accommodations.” They both winced at the bad joke. After a moment, Jaime cleared his throat.

“What am I doing here?” he asked, finally looking at his brother. Tyrion looked upset, and he couldn’t tell if that was good or bad.

“You decided to betray our sister and ride North to a place full of people who hate you,” Tyrion declared. “What did you think was going to happen?”

Jaime shrugged. “I thought someone would be grateful that I warned them of our sister’s plan — she has completely lost her mind, I should add — and then rode North to help fight the army of the undead, because that’s what I promised I would do, and for once in my life I was trying to do the right thing.” He tried to keep his voice monotone but he didn’t succeed. They sat there in silence for a few minutes. “What’s going to happen to me?” Jaime whispered, finally. 

“It’s not even the Starks,” Tyrion explained. “It’s the Queen. Daenerys. She doesn’t trust the Kingslayer who killed her father. So she wants to put you on trial for killing him. The girl, Arya, wants them to try you for shoving Brann out of the window too, but I am trying to get them to drop it.”

Jaime’s shoulders drooped lower. Tyrion continued, “If you showed up with an army — half an army, even just Bronn — they would have ignored it. But alone? You had to have thought this was a possibility, no?”

Jaime shook his head. “Really, I did not.” They sat there in silence again. 

“Well we’ll figure it out. Daenerys is a great queen, but she runs away with things sometimes. I can reign her in. Besides, we don't have time for a trial. We need to go defend the Wall. But I’ll come back later with an update.”

He started to walk away, so he almost didn’t hear his brother’s question.

“Is Lady Brienne here?” he croaked out. Tyrion turned back and studied his brother.

“She is. Do you…” Tyrion didn’t know how to finish the sentence. “I’ll make sure she knows you’re here.” And then he climbed out of the dungeon, leaving his brother below.

\---

Brienne entered Sansa’s chambers, not sure what she was there for. Sansa was at her desk, writing letters.

“You called, Lady Sansa?” Brienne asked, bowing in the doorway. When Sansa turned to face her she wasn’t smiling.

“Ser Jaime arrived today,” Sansa said. Brienne suddenly felt hot in her ears. Where was he? Was he ok? Should she... Before she could ask, Sansa continued.

“Two Dothraki arrested him as soon as he arrived, on Daenerys’ orders. She wants to try him for murder, for killing her father. Maybe for shoving Brann out the window too.” Brienne felt dizzy, like she couldn’t hear her, her heart was pounding. 

“Lady Sansa,” she choked out. Sansa stood up and walked over to her. 

“Lady Brienne,” she said. “I know he means a lot to you. I know you plan on leaving this room and visiting him in the dungeon, but I urge you not to. Our position with the Targaryen woman is precarious, and we cannot give them more ammunition.”

Sansa was right — Brienne had been planning to run to the dungeon. She still wasn’t convinced she shouldn’t. 

“Lord Tyrion and I are working on a plan. He’s with Ser Jaime now. Hopefully he can convince Daenerys to drop the whole trial idea. But if not, he’ll have to come up with a defense.”

Brienne nodded. She knew one. But could she…

“Why are you helping him?” Brienne asked. Sansa walked to her desk and sat down, then turned back.

“Ser Jaime is the reason why you’re here with me. So I owe him a debt, and I owe you many debts—”

“You don’t Lady Sansa —”

“I do. Let me do this. I’ll talk to Jon, see if he can do something.”

“I trust you Lady Sansa.”

\---

Jaime sat in the dungeon, counting the candles in the hallway. There were at least twelve, but they didn’t cast a lot of light. He did not care for it.

Then someone came down the stairs — a child, a servant girl.

“Ser Jaime?” she asked, her voice so small. He walked over to the bars, leaned down at her.

“Yes?” he asked, leaning down to her. The way her eyes lit up reminded him of when Marcella was that young.

“I have a message from Lady Brienne,” she whispered. “But it’s a secret.” Now he smiled at her. This was the sort of message he liked.

“She says she’s sorry you’re in a dungeon but Lady Sansa said she cannot come see you because the dragon lady wouldn’t like it.” Now he frowned. Not a happy message, then. “But,” the girl added, “She says she’s working with your brother and Lady Sansa to free you. And that she will do or say anything she can to help.” The girl looked up at him. Apparently that was the end of the message.

“Thank you — I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“Catelyn,” the girl said, grinning again. Of course.


	2. Kingslayer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in my headcanon, Jaime sent Daenerys and Brienne letters to tell him he was coming, and told Daenerys about Cersei's treachery, so it's not a surprise when he shows up.

“He killed my father,” Daenerys said, looking down at Tyrion from her throne. “He is the Kingslayer. Does he — or you — deny it?” Tyrion paced back and forth. His attempts at stopping the trial weren’t going well.

“He does not, your grace,” Tyrion conceded, “But that was long ago. And if hadn’t done it, someone else would have.”

“But  _ someone else _ did not take an oath to protect the king,” Jon Snow added, from the corner where he watched, lurked. “And the Kingslayer has to answer for what he did to my brother.” Apparently Sansa’s talk with her brother had not worked. Tyrion answered back.

“Lord Snow, I do not challenge these facts. But do we not have more important things to worry about right now than punishing my brother? Should not our sole focus be defeating the enemy in the North and preparing for battle? To stop our preparations for a trial…”

“Let’s do it now then,” Daenerys said, clapping her hands together. “Get it over with so everyone can move on. Sound fair?”

It certainly did not, but Tyrion could not say so. Instead, he nodded. 

“Good,” Daenerys said, clapping her hands together. She sent guards to fetch the Starks and the prisoner.

“And Lady Brienne, your grace,” Tyrion added. “Lady Brienne needs to be here.”

If Daenerys thought it odd, she said nothing.

\---

“Now?” Brienne asked, following a guard back to the castle. “The trial is happening now? Does Ser Jaime —”

“The Kingslayer is being brought up from the dungeons now,” the guard grunted back. Brienne quickened her pace. She still hadn’t decided what she would do. She had wanted to slip into the dungeons last night, to ask Jaime what he wanted, but the Dragon Queen kept the dungeons heavily guarded and it would have been impossible to slip by unseen. And though little Catelyn was a useful go between, Brienne could not have burdened her — or trusted her — with their tale of woe.

Because the day Jaime told her the story of how and why he killed the king, it became her story too. The story that would vindicate him, the story that he never told to anyone but her, half destroyed, half mad, completely naked. Why she stopped calling him the Kingslayer. The ground shifted beneath their feet, never to shift back.

But it was still his to tell. He ought to defend himself. She hadn’t even told Sansa and Tyrion, just vaguely hinted that she thought he could talk himself out of it. And she believed he could. But would he?

Jaime could be broody. After his hand was lost, he just wanted to crawl in a hole and die. She would have literally carried him to Harrenhal if she had to. And if he refused to defend himself now, she would carry him again. Even if he didn’t want her to, even if he hated her for doing it — this is not where his story ended. (Hopefully it wasn’t where their story ended, she thought, then pushed it aside.)

When Brienne walked into the makeshift courtroom — the one where Arya had stabbed Littlefinger, she heard — they had already begun. No one had waited for her. The Dragon Queen was pontificating about the court and her family’s expulsion and her claim to the throne. But when Brienne’s eyes found Jaime, chained in the middle of the room, he was turning to look at her.

He looked tired. She wanted to wrap him in a blanket and carry him away to her room, lay him in her bed, let him rest. This was wrong. Everything was wrong. 

But when their eyes met, for a single, golden moment, everything was right.

\---

Jaime turned back to the Dragon Queen, though it pained him. She was relishing having all eyes on her, relishing the fact that she finally had one single person to blame for her family’s demise.

That’s why he was surprised by the first question she addressed to him. “Why are you here, Kingslayer?” she intoned. He thought the answer was obvious.

“I promised I would come,” he said, mumbling a little. “Speak up, Kingslayer,” she said, smirking. 

“I promised I would come, your grace,” he said, with a small mocking smile of his own. “In Kings Landing. You were there, and my brother, and Lord Snow, and Lady Brienne, and the Hound and a host of others whose names I don’t care to know. You brought a member of the army of the dead —”

“Yes I remember, Kingslayer. But you promised to come North with the Lannister army. Unless they were delayed, I don’t see an army.”

Jaime growled. Was this what she was really angry about? Would he be answering for his sister’s foibles for the rest of his life?

“As I wrote to you before I left Kings Landing, your grace, my sister changed her mind. She lied about sending the Lannister army. While you all fight in the North, she plans on taking back the south with the Greyjoys and an army of sellswords.”

Daenerys looked down at him. He was almost afraid. “But that doesn’t explain why you wrote the letter. Why you betrayed your sister. Why you’re here.”

Jaime gulped. There were answers she would accept and answers she wouldn’t. He wasn’t sure which one the truth was. He gave half the truth.

“I made a promise,” he said. A few people laughed, others rolled their eyes. “I know no one thinks I care about honor or loyalty or promises,” he said in answer. “But I do. I promised to come forth and fight and protect the kingdom. So did my sister. She didn’t keep her promise, and I couldn’t — wouldn’t — stand by her anymore.”

He hung his head. Riding up here he had felt so sure of himself, of the rightness of his mission, of the rightness of the things he wanted. But now he felt foolish, embarrassed. He was too ashamed to even think of the thing he wanted most, let alone to turn his head again and look at her. What had he been thinking?

The Dragon Queen considered him from her perch. She almost looked like a dragon — dangerous, sharp, capable of anything. He couldn’t look her in the eye either.

“Even if we believe you, Kingslayer,” she said, “There’s still the problem of your past crimes. You killed my father, the King. You attempted to kill Lord Brandon.” She gestured to Bran, who was so much older than he was the last time Jaime saw him. He had a coldness about him, a distance, that Jaime hoped wasn’t a direct result of his actions. 

“What do you have to say for yourself, Kingslayer?” she concluded. She was enjoying herself, really enjoying herself. Jaime knew that was dangerous.

“I did both these things, your grace,” he said, finally lifting his eyes to meet hers. He did not like what he saw there. “I throw myself at your mercy.” He could tell Tyrion did not like that, but he did not look at his brother. And he did not look at Brienne.

The queen considered. After what felt like forever, she said, “I don’t think I’m feeling merciful today, Kingslayer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you're enjoying this! <3 comments thanks


	3. Honor

Tyrion did not like how this was going, not one bit. 

He loved Daenerys, he really did. She could be just and strong and wise and brave and clear-headed. But she could also be rash and short-sighted and take things extremely personally. It was his job to guide her toward her better instincts, and away from her worse ones. Usually he was good at it. That’s how they had gotten to where they were. But right now, he could feel her slipping away, on a road to hate and anger and disaster. It did not help that it was his brother, that she would accuse him of being blinded by brotherly attachment. 

“Well Kingslayer,” Daenerys was saying, “If that’s all you have to say for yourself—” Oh no. Tyrion leaped forward.

“Your grace, may I speak on his behalf?” he said, striding into the center of the room. She looked down at him coolly, but gave a small nod.

“When we went South to meet in Kings Landing, we agreed to let bygones be bygones while we dealt with the matter at hand,” he began, pacing. “And that has been a theme of your rule. Almost everyone here, if they did not themselves take part in ousting your father from power, their House did. Their father or uncle or whoever.” He threw a glance at Jon Snow, for effect. “If we are going to defeat the army of the dead and unite the Seven Kingdoms, we can’t spend all this time parsing out who did what when.”

He thought it an effective speech. But Jon Snow shook his head.

“But we don’t have to parse what the Kingslayer has done. Everyone knows. He just admitted it. He is a man without honor, and we have no need for him here.”

At that, Brienne could be quiet no more, stepping forward from her spot in the back of the room.   
“That is a lie, Lord Snow,” she said, practically growling. She directed herself at Daenerys. “If Ser Jaime had no honor, he would still be in Kings Landing with his sister, plotting against you. Instead, he road North, alone, to join our fight. To help save us all. What could be more honorable?”

“You wish to defend the Kingslayer, Lady Brienne?” Daenerys asked, half amused, half confused. Brienne nodded, as if it were the most logical thing in the world. And to her it was.

“Without Ser Jaime I would be dead. When I was in Lady Catelyn Stark’s service — when her son was in rebellion — she charged me to return Ser Jaime to Kings Landing, in exchange for Lady Sansa and Arya’s lives. But on the way, we were captured by Bolton men. They were going to attack me, surely kill me, but he convinced them not to. That’s why they cut off his hand.”

Jaime was impressed that she kept her voice so steady, so strong and level. His heart swelled, even as he wished she wouldn’t do this. She too was surprised she didn’t feel more nervous. She just felt strong.

“When Roose Bolton freed Ser Jaime but not me, Ser Jaime came back and saved me from a bear pit.” As she spoke, she remembered that no one present knew these stories. She thought of his page in the books of the Kingsguard, the room left for more stories. If any of them survived this, this would go there. 

“Then we safely traveled to Kings Landing together. After Lady Sansa fled Kings Landing, accused of killing the king, he gave me my sword — a Valeryian steel sword, with which I intend to kill many wights. And he sent me to find Lady Sansa and to bring her here so she could be safe.”

Of course there had been a lot of hiccups along the way, but she didn’t think she needed to include them. 

“Ser Jaime has made his mistakes, as we all have. But he is a good man. And he doesn’t deserve to die for them.”

Daenerys considered this, considered Brienne. She turned to Lady Sansa.

“Lady Sansa, do you agree with your knight’s assessment?” she asked. Sansa seemed surprised to be addressed.

“I do, your grace,” Sansa said, matching Brienne’s strength. “I trust Lady Brienne completely. If she says he is a changed man, I believe her.”

Daenerys shook her head. “But it still doesn’t justify the crime. It still doesn’t explain why he killed my father.”

Brienne took a breath. She didn’t look at Jaime because she knew his eyes would be telling her not to do this. “Ser Jaime said —”

“No,” Jaime yelled. Everyone turned to him. “Stop. I forbid her to testify.”

“I’m in charge here, Kingslayer,” Daenerys said, annoyed. “You don’t want this woman to defend you?”

“No,” he said. “I do not.”

“Well I don’t care,” Brienne said. “Ser Jaime —”

“No!” he screamed again. She turned to him. His shoulders drooped, his eyes looked at the ground, and there was sweat dripping down his face. Brienne looked to Sansa, communicating with her eyes — help.

“Your grace,” Sansa said. “As lady of Winterfell, might i suggest we take a break? Let Ser Jaime and Lady Brienne settle their quarrel, and you can consider the arguments you’ve heard so far.” Tyrion nodded, praying that Daenerys would agree.

“Fine,” she said. “Guards, bring the prisoner down to the dungeons. Give him a glass of water.” She rose and exited the room. Brienne and Sansa made eye contact again. Sansa nodded and followed the Dragon Queen out of the room, hoping to help. Tyrion followed.

Brienne turned to Jaime, who was being led out by the guards. She could do this.

\----

Jaime paced in his cell as Brienne cajoled one of the guards to let her in with him. She handed him a glass of water, which she ignored. 

“Why can’t you just listen to me?” he said, practically spitting it out. He was angry and sad and he felt trapped and he couldn’t even make sense of all his feelings.

“Why do you want to die?” Brienne asked, calmly. He stopped pacing, looked at her, really looked at her, for the first time. She somehow seemed both older and younger than she had the last time he saw her. More sure of herself, less burdened, somehow.

“Brienne,” he said, practically a whisper. 

“Hello Jaime,” she said, almost smiling. He so rarely saw her smile. He didn’t know what to make of her — he never did, really, but right now he really didn’t.. It was both terrifying and exciting. “When you were out on that road alone, riding North, to here, what did you imagine would happen when you arrived?”

She didn’t it say it bitterly, the way he had asked himself. She just wanted to know. He felt sheepish, suddenly. 

“I thought....” he began. “I thought I’d feel like I was finally where I was supposed to be. For once. And I’d be with you.” He looked away from her at the end, so he missed her grin.

“Good,” she said. “So I’m going to tell them what you told me—”

“No,” he said again, walking away from her. “Don’t.”

“Why not?” she said, truly exasperated with him. Just like old times, she thought. “If I don’t she will kill you. Would you rather keep your secret or your life?”

He grunted. He still admired that she thought things were simple. 

“It’s not going to matter,” he said. “She won’t believe it. Or it’ll make her angrier. Or she won’t care. I’m the Kingslayer, forever. All it will do is make you her enemy too, and after they kill me, they’ll kill you.” 

That wasn’t what she expected. She took a breath. “I can take care you myself. I think you don’t think you deserve anything good, so you’d rather let them take you out of the game now.”

“Anything good?” he said, angry again. “We’re about to go fight an undead army! I have one hand! I don’t foresee this going well for me, do you?” 

“You’re right,” she said, sarcastic now. “I can’t imagine that there’s anything here for you. Or anyone.” She bore into his eyes with her own. After a moment, he had to look away. 

“Brienne,” he said again, more tenderly. “Why do you even care? Go protect Sansa. Go fight. Let them kill me. It’s a long time coming.”

She walked closer and handed him his glass of water again. This time he accepted it. 

“I will never understand you,” she said, like she didn’t exactly mind. “You’re either an idiot, delusional, or a great liar.” 

And then she did the last thing he expected. In one swift motion, she leaned him and kissed him. His stomach lurched, he felt light-headed, he opened his mouth to kiss her back but her lips — unexpectedly soft — were already gone. She was smirking at him. His cheeks were warm, the tips of his ears. Was he  _ blushing _ ? 

“Jaime,” she said again, as way of goodbye as she strode out of the cell.

“Brienne!” he called after her, but she didn’t turn back around. “Brienne,” he mumbled to himself as he shook his head and smiled. He supposed he didn’t want to die after all.


End file.
